Today I walked to the bed just so I could lay down to smell the pillows. It seems like such a silly thing but I know that one day I will miss the way the pillows are lain after being slept on, and the way they smell just like one of my favorite people. I walked passed the mirror on the way out of the room, and I paused for a moment because even my own face looks a little bit older, and a little more fragile then it did just a few months before all of this. I guess that's just what it's like, living with cancer. Living with something that doesn't ever totally go away, something that is constantly in your home, and on your mind. The days end up being scheduled to fit around the doctor appointments. The mail begins to only consist of medical bills, and brochures declaring possibilities for treatments. Even the well meaning texts stop getting answered simply because time is being preoccupied with continuous care. The quiet moments become rare and too sad to often bare ...
journaling in the form of stories and pictures